The following letter and eulogy was submitted to OnFocus by the family of Robert Domine, who was involved in the standoff which took place in Loyal this September. More information about this incident can be found at this link.
The family expresses thanks to those involved and by sharing more about Robert, hopes to promote understanding and awareness of mental illness.
The family of Robert Domine would like to express appreciation to all of the people and entities involved in the events that took place September 11-13.
Thank you to all of the law enforcement, emergency personnel, and everyone who contributed to trying to diffuse the difficult situation with brother/Uncle Bob, in addition to the prompt response and thorough work of DCI.
Our prayers continue to go out to the officer who was injured and any others who were affected in one way or another. We really appreciate all of your efforts keeping the community of Loyal safe while attempting to work towards a peaceful resolution.
We are also truly grateful for the support we’ve received and relationships we’ve built with the officers of the Loyal Police Department who have tried to help Bob throughout the years. We don’t hold the end result against anyone, but instead commend every one of you for risking your lives while Bob believed he was trying to protect his.
In the days that followed, we would like to specifically thank Ron Cuddie from Cuddie Funeral Home, Fr. Leo Johnson and the PCCW from St. Anthony’s Catholic Church, the Veterans of American Legion Post 175, and all others involved in the funeral service.
Gratitude is also sent: To the community of Loyal and all those affected by the events that took place for enduring the challenges faced during the difficult situation; to the management of Loyal Kwik Trip for assisting us in our time of need; to Bob’s neighbors for befriending him, being courteous and patient with him over the years, as well as helping with yard maintenance; to those we are aware of (and those we are not) who have shown respect and compassion in their interactions with Bob regardless of the paranoid schizophrenia with which he dealt; and to those who have reached out with condolences, prayers, and touched us in one way or another during this difficult time.
Family Note: The following eulogy, written by his niece, Lisa, encompasses his life and how he’s remembered by those who loved him.
My Uncle Bob was born in West Allis, WI to Manuial and Helen Domine. He grew up in Loyal and entered the Navy in 1960. He would often sing Navy songs to us and talk about those years as he was very proud to have been part of the U.S. Navy and to have been aboard the naval ships. After being honorably discharged in May of 1963, he went to work as a Heavy Machine Mechanic at Edgerton Contractors in Oak Creek, WI until his retirement.
Uncle Bob never had children of his own, so we were his kids. He loved, protected, helped, and thoroughly enjoyed spending time with his nieces and nephews. I’m sure we’d hear plenty of fun stories about that if we went around the room today. While he worked in Milwaukee, he would faithfully come back to Loyal every two weeks to visit the family.
We loved the Friday nights when Uncle Bob was in town as that usually meant card games (500 Rummy or Sheepshead) or board games (Monopoly, Life or Parcheesi) played with him, followed by sleepovers at Grandma’s house to spend more time with him. He would read to us and help us learn to read the words. He loved helping us climb our large tree and loved carrying us kids on his shoulders, which he now also did with our kids. He would give us his undivided attention for as long as we wanted, always with a smile on his face. Many good memories were made.
And this scar on my forehead, well, that’s from playing “Annie, Annie Over” with him when I was 8. He threw the ball over our garage roof and I caught it, which meant I needed to race around the garage and tag him or my sister. Unfortunately, his canoe was upside down next to our garage.
As I ran around the garage, I somehow slipped and hit by head on the pointed end of the canoe. My forehead was bleeding heavily and my mom thought I might need stitches. Uncle Bob (without hesitation) got in his car, told my mom to grab me and get in, and he raced us to the ER. There was no doubt that he wanted to be there to help, even if it meant sitting for hours in the ER waiting room.
Looking back, it amazes me at the amount of patience Uncle Bob had. He taught my sister and I how to drive, but not at 16—at the ages of 8 and 10. He would let us drive his yellow Camaro (remember that one, with the white leather seats?) or his blue, manual transmission truck around the path in the fields on our farm.
Of course, we thought it was awesome to be driving a real vehicle, so we would make loop after loop after loop around the fields, sometimes for hours at a time. He must have been bored out of his mind! Yet I’m sure he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Not even once did he say it was time to be done. In fact, when I would ask him if we should go around again, he would say, “It’s up to you.”
He actually did take me driving when I had my permit at 15. I remember turning onto a highway and slowly accelerating. He told me to “kick it down” and put the pedal to the floor to get going. I thought, “What? I must have heard him wrong.” But he explained that there will be many times, like when merging or passing, where I will need to kick it down and accelerate quickly. To this day, whenever I’m in a merging or passing situation where I put the pedal to the floor, I think of Uncle Bob and how he would be proud of me. I wish I would have told him that the last time I saw him. He really was an amazing uncle.
Uncle Bob was also always willing to lend a helping hand to anyone at any time, whether that meant driving cars back to the Domine dealership from the auction, helping my sister with various projects as they built their house, or taking care of my Grandma as she aged and couldn’t stay alone any longer.
After Grandma stopped driving, he was always willing to drive her into town, to go see her sisters, take her out for a ride or wherever she wanted to go. If it wasn’t for Uncle Bob staying with and taking care of Grandma, or being there to call the ambulance when she had the blood clot in her leg, we wouldn’t have had the extra 18 years with Grandma. He always told us we could call him anytime we needed help and he would be there. Without a shadow of a doubt, I know he truly meant it.
Uncle Bob was always very protective of us. He would give us speeches about staying safe and would continually remind us to watch our surroundings, stay away from bad areas and lock our car doors.
As he got older, those speeches turned into questions asking if we ever noticed anyone following us or if there were ever strange cars sitting outside our home watching us. Then it progressed into a paranoia that many people were out to get him and sometimes even out to get us. He didn’t want to be away from home for fear people would get into his house, and he didn’t want to be anywhere that he couldn’t see his car at all times.
Uncle Bob wasn’t a bad person in any way, but he was trapped in a bondage called paranoid schizophrenia, which is a serious mental disorder that affects how people think, feel and behave. It requires lifelong prescription treatment, which he was not willing to get. He couldn’t understand that he needed medication to think clearly because he thought he was thinking clearly, and that people really were after him.
He wouldn’t listen when anyone told him he needed help, although we could see his view of reality slipping away. That was the most frustrating part, yet we continued to love him, invite him to gatherings, and spend any time we could with him.
There were a few years where Uncle Bob was on medication and doing much better mentally. He was staying at a facility in Owen and receiving the treatment he needed. The aides at the facility thought he was the greatest guy, so nice and so kind, buying pizzas for the other residents and always willing to help with anything he could.
Eventually the doctor treating him said he was doing so well, he didn’t need to be on the medication any longer. Worst decision ever as Uncle Bob’s symptoms gradually returned once the medication wore off.
You know in the movies where a little angel pops up on one shoulder and a demon on the other? This is what I picture when I think of Uncle Bob’s daily struggle, except instead of one demon, there were many. These demons fed him lies about himself and about others, about what was real and what wasn’t. It was a steady stream of inner voices continually picking at him, aggravating him and torturing him day in and day out until God finally intervened and said “Enough! This is my son and you need to leave him alone!”
I believe God could have left Uncle Bob on the earth for many more years, but He couldn’t stand to see Uncle Bob under that torment any longer. Although we may never understand why his life ended as it did, God ultimately freed Uncle Bob from this mental captivity. Thankfully, he’s now walking streets of gold, or as my niece said, “So far, he’s had 6 days in paradise.”
Thank you again for all who have touched Bob’s life and our lives in a positive way. We are forever grateful to each one of you and may God Bless You All!!
-With Sincere Appreciation, Barb Dux, Lisa Hanson, Denise VanderKooy, Jason Dux, and Families
Author: News Desk
This piece was posted by our news team! Contact us or submit stories at [email protected].
